


Shopping List

by coolbyrne



Category: NCIS
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2020-03-07 18:29:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18878809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coolbyrne/pseuds/coolbyrne
Summary: A casual discovery by Jack uncovers a deeper meaning about her and Gibbs. Semi-established Slibbs.





	Shopping List

**Author's Note:**

> I need to start a Slice of Life series or something. :) I feel a lot of stories I might have for these two won't involve big stories, just big moments.

“You sure she’s going to show up?”

Bishop’s eyes didn’t leave the supermarket entrance. “Missing out on a hot date, Nick?”

“Yeah, with myself. I was thinking of taking me to a nice restaurant, you know? Maybe a little wine, a little music.”

“She’ll be here,” Sloane interrupted from the back seat before the man inside the building could retort over the headset. “It's where he is. Everything in her profile leads her here.”

Nick shook his head. “No offence, Jack, but I just don’t see her killing this guy out in the open.”

She understood his doubt. Few thought in black and white as the young agent. “Because you’re thinking rationally, Nick. But put yourself in her place- her mother just died and her stepfather made it look like a suicide. When he's released on a technicality, he makes a public announcement to plead his innocence. She’ll want to retaliate in kind.”

“But killing him out in the open? At his job?” Bishop asked. “I’m with Nick on this one. If I were her, I’d make sure it was a quiet place, somewhere out of the way, where no one would find him.” The occupants in the car and the headsets went silent. “That sounded completely different in my head.”

Chuckling, Nick said, “I think what Bishop means is, most killers don’t want to get caught.”

“We’re thinking in a linear line, but she’s not thinking that far ahead. All she’s thinking about right now is making sure he pays for what he’s done.”

“I hope Kasie finds something on that rope,” Ellie said. “Would like to make him pay, too.”

“You mean in a non hide-the-body kind of way,” Nick clarified.

“She will, an’ so will we,” Gibbs said, speaking over the headset for the first time.

“I never pictured you grocery shopping,” Nick admitted. “It’s kind of like seeing your 3rd grade teacher out in public.” He whispered, “What do you think he’s buying?”

“Besides steak?” Ellie asked.

A voice came over the line, but in the background.

“Excuse me, I don’t mean to be a bother, but I can never figure out how to pick these.”

There was a silence before Gibbs spoke. “Just hold ‘em in your hand, gauge the weight, give ‘em a gentle squeeze.”

Nick was smart enough to cover the Bluetooth in his ear before bursting into laughter. “Check it out! Gibbs’ picking up a woman at the produce counter.” He let out an “Oof!” when Bishop punched him in the arm.

Her head gave a not-so-subtle jerk in the direction of the back seat. Though both Gibbs and Jack had kept their relationship quiet, it was the office's worst kept secret.

“He's going to get his own round things squeezed, and not in a gentle way if he's not careful.”

Jack tapped the younger woman's shoulder in thanks. Before she could comment, the female voice came down the line again.

“You married?”

“Four times,” he replied, and they could almost see his smirk. “In between, at the moment.”

“Wow.” Not put off by his dry delivery, the woman said, “Maybe 5th time's the charm?”

“I'll be sure to ask her when I get home.”

Nick flinched and made a face. “Oh, that was cold!”

There were some muffled words and what was clearly a hasty exit by Gibbs’ admirer.

“Can we get back to work now?” he asked.

“We weren't the ones feeling up melons,” Jack retorted, mouth engaging before brain.

A silent thread stretched over the line until Tim coughed lightly. “In completely different news, our guy has come down from his office, so maybe we should keep our eye out for Melissa Kaufmann? 

“We’re on it, Dad,” Nick replied. “No sign yet.”

“Where are ya, McGee?”

“Cereal, Boss. Figured I might as well pick up a few things while we’re waiting.”

Nick snorted. “It’s not really a shopping trip.”

“So I’m supposed to walk around the grocery store with an empty cart?” Tim asked. The banter was cut short when he whispered, “She just walked along the back wall. Blue hoodie and jeans. Hood’s up.”

“Must’ve come from the staff entrance,” Bishop cursed.

Gibbs stopped her self-recrimination in its tracks. “Forget it. Just do your jobs.”

“We can’t apprehend her until she does something,” Tim reminded them, knowing they were on their way to the scene from the car. 

Unholstering his gun, Torres muttered, “Let’s hope she doesn’t do anything too permanent.”

The trio grouped outside the store while Gibbs and McGee, still playing their roles, triangulated on the young girl. If they wondered how they were going to kill time while they waited for her to make her move, they didn’t have to wait long. Her step-father, Robert Albrighton, seemed naively unaware of what was about to unfold as he chatted with his cashier while Melissa moved in closer. By the time the employee’s eyes told him something was wrong, he had already heard the gun cock behind him. The sound and action forced Tim and Gibbs to draw their own weapon, and in an instant, the moment became a stand-off. 

“NCIS,” Gibbs barked to the surrounding customers. “Out the door.” The few who didn’t obey the order were ushered out by Tim. To Melissa, he sanded the burr from his voice and said, “You don’t wanna do this, Melissa. He’s not worth it.”

Startled but determined, she shook her head. “You have no idea what I want to do.” Robert made a motion to move and she kicked him in the calf, sending him face first to the floor. “I’m the daughter of a Marine,” she said, kicking him again. “You don’t think I could end you right here?” Wiping her cheek with the cuff of her hoodie, she looked at Gibbs. “Wouldn’t have to do this if you did your job.”

His voice as level as his gun, he replied, “Wasn’t me, Melissa. But it is now. And I promise you, we’ll get him.”

Robert groaned from the floor. “I didn’t do anything. She just doesn’t want to accept what happened.”

Both Gibbs and Melissa spoke in unison. “Shut up.”

Shuffling her feet, the uncertainty of the moment becoming a cold reality, she bolstered her sudden doubt by saying, “I told you and told you guys he did it, but no one wanted to listen.”

A voice spoke up from the door. “I’ll listen, Melissa.”

She aimed her gun at the new visitor. “Who’re you?”

Jack slowly entered the store, arms raised. “Just someone who wants to help you.”

Melissa glanced between her and Gibbs. “You’re with them.”

“Yes,” Jack admitted, “but I’m not an agent. Not in that way. See? No gun.” She slowly opened her jacket to show she was unarmed. “I just want to talk.”

A last ditch thread of defiance ran through her reply. “It’s too late for that. There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Sure there is. Let’s talk about what happens after you kill him.”

The bluntness seemed to surprise her, though she tried to cover it with a shrug. “I go to jail. At least Mom will have justice.”

Her question gentle, Jack asked, “Would she think that? How about your Aunt Susan? Would she think it’s justice to lose a sister and her only niece in 6 months of each other?” As she spoke, she began moving towards the girl in slow increment steps. 

“Jack,” Gibbs rumbled into her earpiece.

“You want to hear me talk. No one asked to hear Mom talk.” She squeezed her eyes at a memory. “She came back from Iraq and wasn’t the same. She pretend everything was okay, but I knew. Every once in a while I’d catch her with this- this haunted look on her face, you know? I’d ask her about it but she’d just smile and say she was fine.”

The description, so familiar to Jack, made her nod her head. Without trying to undermine the girl’s memories, she said, “Been there.” With a hand on her chest, she clarified. “Afghanistan.”

Melissa looked at her as if seeing her for the first time. “NCIS,” she said, recalling Gibbs’ shout. “You’re Navy?”

“No. Army.”

A small smile appeared. “Mom used to say that meant Ain’t Ready for the Marines Yet.”

Jack didn’t have to see Gibbs to know he, too, was smiling a little. “Yeah. I might have heard that once or twice.”

“But you've got it together,” she said. “I don't understand why Mom couldn't do the same.”

“Some of us are just better at faking it than others, Melissa. That, and I had a really good friend who got me the help I needed.” She stepped a little closer. “Oh, sweetheart, I wish I could've been that friend for your mom. But I _can_ be that friend for you. And as your friend, I would tell you this isn't the way. He will face justice, I promise.”

“He said the same thing.” She glanced at Gibbs then back to Jack.

The need for reassurance was palpable and Jack had no hesitation in giving it. 

“If you can't trust him, you can't trust anyone.”

Almost on cue, Bishop came through their earpieces. “Just got a text from Kasie. Robert Albrighton’s skin tags were found on the rope, around the knot. She said it could only get there if he tied it himself.”

“Okay,” Jack said, both to Ellie and to Melissa. Tapping her ear, she said, “We got him, Melissa. DNA just came through.”

“Bullshit,” Albrighton retorted.

“Buddy,” Gibbs growled, “I’d really shut up now.” 

Melissa saw his eyes go steel blue cold. Holding the gun out for Jack to take, she stepped back, but not before giving the man on the floor one last kick. “I knew it,” she whispered. “I knew it.”

“Torres, get in here,” Gibbs said.

“With pleasure.”

The tightly coiled agent entered the store with balled up intensity and with laser focus, marched over to the suspect, snapped the handcuffs on and lifted him with two large handfuls of fabric. “Robert Albrighton, you’re under arrest for murder, being an all around douchebag, and for making me touch this polyester shirt.”

“Bishop, go with him,” Gibbs told her, holstering his weapon. “McGee, take Melissa, get a statement.”

“On it, Boss.” He pulled a bag out his pocket and took the gun from Jack. “Can I buy my things first?” The withering look he got in return was the only reply he needed. “Right. See you back at the office.”

Suddenly, Jack and Gibbs were the only two people left in the store. The lights all at once seemed too bright, the aisles too big. It was only now that the canned music filtered down to them.

“Weird, isn’t it?” she asked, coming to the same conclusion he did. “Like the zombie apocalypse.”

“The what?” 

His usual feigned ignorance of popular things only made her laugh. “Let’s see what you considered worth taking in the zombie apocalypse.” 

“You’re not analyzing my groceries,” he warned as she walked to his abandoned cart.

“Oh, I am!” With a smile over her shoulder that they both knew found a soft space in him, she said, “It’s one of the few things you have I can analyze.” She bent her head to examine the contents. “Two steaks.”

“I knew it!”

Jack’s face lit in surprise over Ellie’s declaration. Gibbs tilted his head in faint accusation before pulling the Bluetooth out of his ear and slipping it into his pocket.

“I totally forgot,” Jack whispered, making an ‘Oops!’ face and following suit. Returning to her perusal, she noted, “Fruit! That’s good.”

“Jack,” he warned.

Undaunted, she continued, though her playfulness diminished with each item she identified, and he knew why because he was coming to the exact same realization. 

They had yet to define whatever it was between them. ‘Relationship’ was the easiest label, even if it was the vaguest. Though they brought years of experience into it with them, everything was still new; they knew how things worked, but they were still figuring out how it worked with _them_. Sure, she had space in his closet for a change of clothes. Yeah, she had pilfered 1 or 2 (or 4) of his shirts that were her favourites. He had made room in the bathroom for her creams and a toothbrush, but that was just for basic hygiene purposes, right?

Wasn't it? 

Except everything in the cart beyond the 2 steaks and a package of cookies were things she recognized as ‘hers’. From the artisan bread to the multi-coloured cereal he pretended not to enjoy watching her eat. Lots of greens she would bet a month's salary he didn't know the name of before he met her. Her favourite ice cream that he had picked up so automatically that he hadn't considered it slowly melting, because they were on the job, remember? And that bag of sugar was definitely for her.

He stood silently by her side, drawing the same conclusions. It didn't take a degree in psychology to analyze what it meant. Still, she saved him -them- from any awkward self-discovery by lifting one of the items and wagging it back and forth.

“This cheese is 15 dollars a block.”

He shrugged, thankful for the diversion but not entirely willing to avoid this new development. Avoidance never got him anywhere except alone- she made him realize that.

“Who else am I gonna spend it on?” His words were meant to be gruff but his voice betrayed the intent. Soft, warm and pleasantly resigned.

Her arms caught him by surprise, thrown around his shoulders and pulling him close. Her lips on his was an even more startling development. Neither were ones for public affection, partly because of work logistics, but mostly because it was their nature. Feeling her mouth stake its claim, brazenly, fully and completely, he wondered if he might have to reconsider his aversion. Still, when she finally pulled back, he admonished her with a raised eyebrow.

“Please,” she said, having none of his feigned disapproval, “it's the zombie apocalypse, remember? Besides, I can tell you enjoyed it.” 

He was second-guessing the High and Tight because he felt the tips of his ears go red and he knew there was no hiding it.

Her mouth twitched with amusement as she glanced down to his belt then back up to his face. “I was talking about the way your eyes go this kind of cotton-candy blue when you're pleased, but hey.”

If he was bothered by how easily she could slip past his hard Marine exterior, he might consider unravelling the mystery, but he figured there were better things to do with her over a lifetime. Still, he tried to leverage his last ounce of stoicism. “Knock it off, Sloane,” he said, knowing full well she'd do the opposite. 

“C'mon, Cowboy.” She reached into the cart. “We should pay for the ice cream. It's the least we can do.”

“Uh-huh. Nothing to do with the fact it's your favourite.”

“No! Is it? I didn’t notice.”

As she began to walk away, he reached out for her hand, stopping her in her tracks. His calloused fingers felt out of place, curling around her soft skin, but she seemed to not notice, her attention raptly turned to his face.

"You never have to fake it with me."

She knew he wasn’t talking about her feigned shock at his choice in ice cream. It shouldn't have been a surprise that he remembered the words she had shared with Melissa Kaufmann. Bringing their clasped hands up to her heart, she tipped her head up and kissed him again, this time with less passion but no less gratitude. 

"I know, " she whispered. 

How could she not? This man- who bought her marshmallow cereal and $15 cheese, who made silent declarations with his eyes, his hands and his mouth, who made resolute promises in empty supermarkets- only ever asked her to be nothing less than what she was. Before the moment could become too much, she stepped back and kissed his fingers then reached into the cart for the cookies.

Seeing his head tilt at her choice, she shrugged. "Shouldn't just be about me. And I hate these things so you know I'm being honest."

"Never thought different."

She grinned then seemed to do some quick math. "Got any cash on you?" At his arched eyebrow, she said, "What? You think there’s a place to keep money on this dress?" His covetous once-over made her chin tilt down and her voice become mock-stern. “Really?” Turning away again, she said, “Eyes up, Cowboy and throw a 10 on the counter. I gotta find a spoon before this melts.”

With the view almost as good from the back as it was from the front, he felt no shame in only doing half of what she had ordered. Eyeing her 6, he dropped a bill on the register and followed her out the door.

…..

-end

 


End file.
